


A Special Day

by MissUnnoticed



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America is a little shit, Birthdays, Fluff, Happy Ending, Independence Day - Freeform, Let LiberTea be happy!, M/M, Romance, The longstanding tension kinda gets solved, USUK - Freeform, but he's England's little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissUnnoticed/pseuds/MissUnnoticed
Summary: "Do you regret it?"--In which the Fourth of July comes and America decides to be honest with how he feels for once.





	A Special Day

"Do you regret it?"

The question was so out of the blue that America had to look up from his half-eaten burger to England's solemn face.

"What?" America asks despite having heard of the former empire's sudden question.

"Well," England takes a sip of the tea and places it back on the table. If one were to look at him closely, then one would see how his hands trembled slightly and how the elaborately-designed cup almost fell from his grasp, but alas, America was far too immersed in his own thoughts to notice anything at all, "the Fourth of July is nearing, if the paleness of my skin isn't proof enough."

America took the time to scrutinise the older and saw that his complexion has lightened a bit too much than it's supposed to. The land of the free swallows his saliva and says, "And?"

"I'm just wondering if..." England stared at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world at the moment. A few seconds passed before he finally turned his gaze to his former colony and gave a strained smile, "Never mind. It must be the symptoms of the sickness brought by the upcoming dreadful days kicking in."

He stands up and leaves just like that. America doesn't know how to feel. Yes, he was certainly excited and was practically counting down the days until his birthday comes, but seeing his former mentor like that...

He simply stares blankly at England's tea that had already gone cold.

»«-»«

Weeks passed and it was finally the Fourth of July.

America holds a party that was even bigger than the last, inviting practically everyone he knows. Flags of red, blue and white proudly showed off bright stars and stripes, and a humongous cake that rivalled the size of the Lady of Liberty sat amidst it all. Among all the flashy things that were there, a young man with ash blonde hair and the brightest smile still stood out.

He was, contrary to what people have expected, wearing a suit and a bowtie that looked aged and quaint, but not too shabby. Still, knowing the man, he should've worn something that is more up to date. Needless to say, a lot were surprised.

"Hmm, Amerique, that suit looks quite old. I wonder what made you decide to wear that on this day," France comments, sipping from the wine he had given as a contribution to the party.

"Oh, this?" America chuckled nervously, "It is old, but it means a lot to me. Just a reminder of back then, I suppose."

France merely raises an eyebrow before turning around and started walking to the direction of a group of ladies.

"Wait!" America calls and France turns again.

"Hmm?"

"Have you seen England?"

France had an unreadable expression in his face, "No, I haven't seen Angleterre. Why'd you be looking for him, though? I'm fairly certain he's puking blood right at this moment."

America couldn't say anything to his blunt answer and was left standing, not even realising that the older country had left.

Of course. The last time he had seen him, he was already getting ill and surely even more so today. America never chose to care for these kinds of things since they were countries and pain didn't really matter. England had even come to his birthday a few years back, so who could blame him for hoping he'd do the same this year?

He remained in the spot for so long, the feeling of loneliness creeping into his heart again. The cheers and loud voices of people rang in his ears until there was no more but silence.

He wasn't going to come.

England wasn't going to come.

America felt pain in his palms and only then did he notice that he was clenching his fists. He ran right then and there, ignoring the confused looks he was given and going straight to where England was.

Because if England wasn't going to come, then he would.

»«-»«

It was raining when he arrives, but America didn't mind.

"England? England!" he knocks on the door like there was something chasing him from behind.

After a few more loud knocks, a country with an ashen face and ridiculously huge eyebrows finally opened the door, "America, you wanker. Would it be impossible for you to knock like a normal human bei—"

"England!" he immediately throws himself into the other's arms and envelopes him into a bear hug.

They stayed like that for a while since England didn't seem to have any problem with it. America suddenly says, "I don't regret it."

England seemed to have wanted to pull away to see how the younger country's face looked like and have a real conversation, but America kept his grip firm.

"I don't regret seceding from you, England," he mutters almost inaudibly, "there are times when I became selfish, wishing I could take back what I did and be with you, but... but still, I believe that I did the right thing."

His grip tightens, "I wanted to be stronger, to be more than a colony to you. I wanted you and everyone to see me as someone worthy of you. All I ever wanted was just..."

America stops when he feels a warm hand stroking his wet blonde hair. He couldn't see what expression England had on his face, but he imagined it as one that he frequently saw when he was a child, when the former empire was so much bigger than him, when he was still allowed to be this close to him.

It must've been an expression he had plastered every time he knew he should scold him, but couldn't find it in himself to.

America indulged in his touch but then chortled and said, "The tax was truly ridiculous though."

"America," the older country breathes, perhaps trying to sound annoyed, but failing at it. Feeling the need to change the topic, he says, "it's your birthday. I'm sure you have a lot prepared for today. Why did you choose to see me?"

America grinned when he finally pulled away, "Of course, I do, but I wanted to spend this day with you."

England sighs and shakes his head, "Look at you, you're all wet—"

He does a second take at his former colony and couldn't believe what he saw. This... that suit was... but it can't be!

"That..." his expression softens, the frown he was trying to put together in his face slowly vanishing, "isn't that suit—"

"Yes," America answers before he can continue his question, "it's the suit you gave me back then."

"But, I don't understand," England looked infinitely muddled, "why... why would you—"

Again, he cuts him off, "Haven't I told you back then that I would wear this only in special occasions? Today is such a day."

England was silent for a few moments, but one could tell that a twinkle was now present in his dull eyes and that his face has brightened up by a fraction. 

"I don't know how you could even fit your arse in that," he says after a while. 

America gasped, "How could you say that to me? I've been working out just to be able to wear this and barely managed to fit myself in it!"

It's true. When the brilliant idea came into his mind, the not-so-brilliant way of making that idea to work followed, and it just so happened to involve dieting and working out.

England chuckles and America feels that it's all worth it. His efforts had paid off. 

"How can you just run like that when it's raining here? You're such a prat, really,"

"I expected as much; it's always raining in England."

"Oh, shut up."


End file.
